Wednesday morning... Start the car. Drive to the MARC station. Park the car (for free!). Walk up to the station. Stare at the ticket machine for five minutes, look around helplessly, and a lovely woman saw my face. "The machine is broken, honey. It is too cold for that thing to work. You can buy a ticket on the train, they won't charge you more." Huge sigh of relief and a hike up the steps. I feel like I have bonded with this woman so I stand near her on the platform and we chat a little about the weather. No one else on the platform speaks.
A little light down the track becomes a roaring silver train and it is as if everyone has been replaced with ants. Everyone is scurrying, running, getting close to one another in an attempt to be aligned with the doors of the train. I was not in prime form that early in the morning (just about 5:45 AM) and stayed back a little to watch everyone hurry onto the MARC. Getting on, I sat in a comfortable seat and settled in for a little ride.
A sleepy, under-caffeinated silence took over the whole train and I was content to people watch while I could. As we approached DC, the train slowly filled but the quiet nature remained. I switched from the MARC to the Metro at the beginning of the orange line, and settled in for a forty minute ride. Two young girls got on my car at the next stop and I smiled my normal smile and the younger of the two sat next to me, while her sister (or friend? I'm assuming sister) sat in the seat catty-corner of her. We rode together in a mutual appreciation that neither was taking up a ton of space, coughing, or smelling weird.
After three stops went by and the girls were still riding with me, I had to ask, "Are you going to school?"
In almost a whisper, "Yes."
My need to know overpowered my sense of privacy, "Is it a private school?"
"Yes." Her mother taught her not to talk to strangers without being rude. High five to her mom.
"Do you have a long ride?" I really could not wrap my head around how long their "commute" was to school!
"We're getting off at Rhode Island Ave. It isn't too bad," as if she read my mind.
I left it at that and did not say another word until she stood to change to the red line, "Have a good day at school!" I couldn't help myself.
A little wave and my new friend and her sister were gone. Twenty more minutes. A man got on the train, went directly to the door on the other side of the train, and stood still. He rode this way through the next stop, and just when I thought he was losing it, the next stop opens on his side and he walks right out. He was a pro. A pro-metro rider. He was not alone. So many men, women, boys, girls, everyone was a pro. I was the only newbie that early in the morning.
I went to my class. It was wonderful. We can leave it at that.
I did not get to leave until after 6 PM and I knew it was going to be tough to catch my MARC train but I did not have any other options. I ride the Metro to the connecting station and the whole way my stomach is in knots and I am feeling like I might lose my lunch. Does everyone that rides a train get this way when life gets in the way and makes them a few minutes late?! I get to the station and I missed the last train by 5 minutes, and the next train was not coming for another 50 minutes. It is already after 7 PM at this point. I'm hysterical... I won't sugar coat it. I was crying, in public, with my head not on straight from lack of sleep and self-inflicted stress.
What did I do? What would you do? Call mom? (Been there, did that)
I may or may not have gotten on a train I was not allowed to be on. I may or may not have called my husband and begged him to come pick me up from a different station than where my car was. Well, without admitting to breaking any rules... I made it home. I was a mess. I hate breaking rules. For goodness sakes, I am the most goody-two shoes person you'll ever meet. I'm going to school to become a lawyer, not because I break the law often and need to be ready, but because I want to be someone who can help support the law. So after beating myself up, and a little dinner, I promptly fell asleep in five minutes.
I turned around and did it all over again this morning. The silence was the same, until I got to the Metro. A woman was speaking on her cellphone, and by speaking, it may have been closer to yelling. I sat in front of her, tried to give her some privacy and attempted to not listen to her whole conversation. You will never guess what surprised me the most. She never lost service! How did she do that?! I lose service the second we go underground on that Metro. I get it back a little at every station, but this woman never lost it!
Some of you may have thought I was going to go on a rant how you're not supposed to use cellphones on the Metro, but that would have been silly and pointless. I do not know that woman's story. The conversation did seem pretty trivial, but even some of my trivial conversations are important to get my mind off normal life stresses. Who cares that she talked the whole ride? Who cares that she was really loud in a world of silence? I do not. My Wednesday was terrible. Maybe this woman's Thursday was terrible.
It is not our place to judge our fellow occupants of this earth. These past two days have opened my eyes to the realization that I am only one person in a busy world of billions. Many of us, myself included, get wrapped up in our own everything and not think about everyone else.
A man got on the train tonight with a bundle of flowers. I immediately thought it was his anniversary with his wife and he was so sweet to bring home flowers! (It just as possibly could have been that he forgot their anniversary and those were "I'm sorry" flowers. But I'm a glass half full type) On my train this morning a woman came up to a man, said something in Spanish to him (in a neutral tone), he nodded, and she got off at the next stop without another word. A few stops later the same man spoke to the woman next to him, again in Spanish, and then got of the train. She got off a few stops later. My mind soared in a million directions with the possibilities what this episode of Metro of Our Lives could mean. Were they husband/wife and father/daughter? They could have been, but there was not enough emotion between any of them. Were they older sister/middle brother/younger sister? Again, not enough emotion. Were they all just more drawn to each other because they were Hispanic or Spanish, I plead ignorance as to which. I feel more drawn to young woman around my age that smile as easily at me, as I do at them. Maybe that was the extent of their connection.
I do not know, and I will not attempt to guess, the truth about this trio, or my mystery flower buyer, or the cellphone woman. All I can know fully is me. All I can understand fully is me. I will be patient. I will be understanding and kind. I will continue to hope the best of everyone.
Happiness starts with you. Start today.
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